


My House, My Rules

by writteninblood



Series: Never the Same [3]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Antagonism, Dadwald, Fluff, Gift Giving, I can't write anything where Oswald doesn't give Edward coffee, M/M, POV Oswald Cobblepot, Tutoring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 09:51:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13268943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writteninblood/pseuds/writteninblood
Summary: Oswald and Edward try to maintain civility when Martin wants Edward as his math tutor.





	My House, My Rules

Things only get stranger after the Christmas dinner. When Oswald talks with Martin about his secret communications with Edward Nygma, he’s surprised to learn that they’ve simply been discussing…math. Martin even shows him some of his emails from Edward, which are equations explained or points to remember when attempting certain calculations. Oswald has to prevent a snort when he sees how Edward signs off his emails. Who writes ‘regards’ in an email to a child?

Oswald allows Martin to keep up his communication with Edward, purely for his educational benefit. He decides against punishing him, thinking that doing so because he sought out educational assistance might send the wrong message. Seeking the help of the smartest man in Gotham was, after all, a clever move. And so it goes on, the emailing back and fourth, for a few weeks, until one day Martin comes to him in his office, looking somewhat nervous.

“What is it?”

Martin has written out his request on paper and he hesitantly approaches the desk and hands it to Oswald. He takes a couple of steps back, still looking apprehensive. Oswald eyes him curiously before reading the note. 

It turns out that Martin wants Edward to come to the Lounge to help him with his math. He’s trying to get into some advanced classes and says it would be easier if Edward was physically there to explain things to him. Apparently Edward is ‘willing’ to give up one night per week in his busy schedule to come by and tutor him. Oswald can’t help but feel appalled about having to negotiate awkward interactions with Edward once a week.

“You know I can just hire you a tutor, don’t you? You can have anything you need, Martin.”

Martin scribbles something on his notepad. 

_But I like him. I feel like he understands me._

Oswald closes his eyes, he doesn’t really have it in him to refuse this request, even though he knows it’s going to make his life considerably more complicated. He knows in his heart that Edward _is_ the most intelligent man in Gotham; so Martin _would_ be receiving the _best_ tutoring. He will have to attempt to rise above his personal differences with Edward, for Martin’s sake. Why, out of all the smart people in Gotham, Martin had to befriend _Edward_ , Oswald will never know. Perhaps it’s an inherent weakness in Cobblepot men. He sighs.

“All right,” Oswald concedes. “I’ll have the room next door converted into a study. I’ll leave the dates and times down to you and Mr. Nygma.”

Martin grins and runs around the desk to hug him. Oswald affectionately pats him on the back.

“All right now go and do your homework, I’ll see you for dinner at seven.”

Martin nods and leaves the office. Oswald drops his head into his hands.

*

Thursdays seem to be the best night for Edward to come over. Oswald’s anticipation and dread only increases as the evening gets nearer. When five o’clock on Thursday finally arrives, Mr. Penn brings Edward to the study, where Oswald is waiting with Martin. When Edward enters the room, his eyes lock with Oswald’s immediately, and Oswald’s traitorous heart speeds up. Oswald is relieved when he looks away. 

“Good evening Martin,” Edward says warmly. His smile drops when he looks back up. “Oswald.”

So that’s how it’s going to be. 

“This will be your study space,” he says, determined to be civil in front of Martin. “If you need anything, please let Mr. Penn know and he’ll see to it. I’ve tried to think of everything, but I’m not a mathematician, so…”

He shrugs, trying to keep the tone light, but Edward snorts obnoxiously. Anger starts to bubble under Oswald’s skin, but he soldiers on.

“It was kind of you to come here and help Martin like this.”

“I’m not doing this for _you_ Oswald. Martin’s never wronged me so I don’t see why _he_ should suffer for your poor decisions, why _he_ should be deprived of my superior intellect.” 

Oswald’s blood is boiling. He glances at Martin, who looks distressed. That is unacceptable.

“Wait here, Martin. Mr. Nygma and I will be back in a moment.” He turns to Edward. “ _You_ come outside with me, _now_.”

Edward sighs dramatically but follows Oswald out into the main room of the club, closing the door behind him. Oswald rounds on him, brandishing his cane angrily.

“I am _allowing_ you into my home for my boy’s benefit, and while I don’t ever expect you to like me, what I _do_ expect is for you to maintain a civil and respectful attitude towards me in front of Martin. He’s had enough to deal with in his life without you creating this negative atmosphere with your contempt for me. Do or say whatever you like to me outside this club, but when you are in _my_ home, you _will_ abide by this one simple rule. Do I make myself clear?”

Edward looks the closest to ashamed he’s ever seen him. He swallows and meets his eyes, looking like a guilty schoolboy; all flustered anger and embarrassment. “Crystal.”

Oswald wasn’t expecting him to back down and acquiesce so quickly. He deflates. “Good. Now, Martin is waiting.” 

Edward turns and goes back into the study and closes the door without another word.

Mr. Penn appears at his side. 

“Should I have them brought some refreshments, sir?”

“Make Martin his usual hot chocolate in about half hour. And a medium Brazilian roast coffee for Mr. Nygma. Bring them to me, and I will take them personally. It will give me a chance to check on them.”

Mr. Penn nods and scuttles off like he can’t get away fast enough, as he usually does. Oswald goes into his office to sort through some paperwork, trying to forget the fact that Edward is just the other side of the wall. 

*

Half an hour later Mr. Penn knocks with the requested tray of drinks. With his leg it’s going to be a bit of a pain carrying it without sloshing the drinks everywhere. He asks Mr. Penn to open the door just slightly, so they can’t see that he had help, before pushing it the rest of the way himself. 

Edward and Martin are sitting side by side at the table, and Edward is actually laughing; Martin is smiling right along with him. Edward’s face sobers instantly when he sees Oswald, but Martin smiles up at him affectionately. He eyes the hot chocolate and immediately starts writing a note on the corner of the paper he’s been using to work out math problems. 

_Thank you_. 

Oswald places the tray on the edge of the table (having miraculously managed not to spill any) and puts each of their drinks in front of them, making sure not to put them on any of their books or papers. Edward looks extremely uncomfortable. Oswald thinks it was worth doing this just for that. Martin then nudges Edward, frowning up at him.

Edward then does the most exaggerated eye roll he’s ever seen and then says, voice monotone, “thank you, Oswald.”

“You’re welcome,” Oswald says, barely able to restrain his glee. He smiles down at Martin. “I hope it’s going well?”

Martin nods so hard Oswald thinks his head might fall off. “Excellent! Well, carry on.” He takes the tray and leaves the room, with one last glance at Edward, his expression unreadable.

He’s later gratified to note, clearing their cups from the study, that Edward drained his entire cup. 

*

The next few weeks pass without incident and after the second week, Oswald doesn’t wait with Martin. This allows them to just get on with it, Martin not having to endure any forced civility. He figures that the less interaction that Martin has to witness between the Edward and himself, the better. Edward comes and goes without Oswald seeing him at all; he has Mr. Penn take them refreshments after the first week. 

It’s mostly fine, and Oswald certainly never listens by the door, just to hear Edward’s voice as he patiently explains things to Martin. 

*

On the fourth Wednesday since the tutoring began, Martin comes to Oswald and asks him if he can get a present for Edward, as a thank you for the help. So, after school, Oswald takes him into the shopping district, to the finest boutiques. 

If someone had told him a year ago that he would be taking his son shopping to buy a present for the Riddler, he probably would have slit their throat. 

As they wander through the men’s section of a department store, Martin stops to write a note.

_What do you think he would like?_

“Ah-ah, I can’t help you. If I choose anything, he will know it was me, and he won’t accept. This has to be your idea.”

_But you used to be his friend. You know him better than me_

“Don’t you have any inside jokes? Something to do with math?”

_That’s boring. I want to get something useful._

“I’m sure he will appreciate the sentiment regardless of what you choose, Martin. Edward isn’t used to receiving gifts.” He’d better. 

Martin looks thoughtful.

_He says his job is stressful._

Oswald is unsuccessful in holding back a snort. That’s one word for Edward’s...occupation.

_I have an idea!_

And with that he heads off to the other side of the store, with Oswald following resignedly.

*

The following evening, Martin insists that Oswald wait with him. They’re both leaning on the table, facing the door. Martin doesn’t tell him as much, but Oswald can tell he is nervous about whether or not Edward will like his gift, and wants Oswald there for backup. Martin turns the gift in his hands, it’s wrapped in deep green tissue paper and tied with gold ribbon. Oswald’s ready to mortally wound Edward if he disappoints Martin with his reaction.

When Edward finally enters the study, Oswald can see that Edward is surprised to see him there, and immediately suspicious. Martin steps forward and shows Edward his pre-written note.

_I got you a present to say thank you for helping me_

He hands the gift to him and Edward looks at Martin then at Oswald with a childlike surprise. 

“I, ah, that wasn’t necess—”

Oswald shoots him a look of pure venom.

“Thank you, Martin,” Edward hastily corrects. Martin grins.

Edward unties the bow and impatiently tears off the paper, revealing a plain box. He opens it and pulls out the item inside.

It’s an expensive luxury bubble bath in a corked glass bottle. The bubble bath itself is lime green with flecks of glitter in it. As he moves it in his hand, it sparkles. Oswald can tell from the enchanted look on his face that the gift is a success. Green and shiny is usually a safe bet for the Riddler. Martin chose the gift, Oswald advised him on the scent and colour. Next to him, Martin writes another note.

_You said your job was stressful, and Dad always says there’s nothing more relaxing than a bath, so I thought this might help_

Oh dear god. Oswald can feel his cheeks heating up. He hazards a glance at Edward, whose ears are tinged slightly red. 

_You do have a bathtub at your place don’t you?_

“Of course. It’s an antique claw foot bathtub. Very valuable. Never used it though. Looks like I have an excuse to now.” He smiles at Martin, deliberately avoiding Oswald’s eyes.

Christ. Oswald tries with all his might to stop _that_ image entering his brain. 

“Okay well, I have work to do,” Oswald says, ruffling Martin’s hair. “Have a good lesson.” He studiously avoids Edward’s eyes as he leaves. 

It was definitely easier on the Thursdays when they didn’t see each other at all.

*

Right around the time Edward usually leaves, there’s a knock on the office door. Expecting it to be martin, he says “come in” without looking up from his paperwork. 

“Oswald, do you mind if I talk with you for a moment? Martin’s gone upstairs to change for dinner.”

This marks the first time Edward’s spoken to him with civility since their Christmas dinner. He imagines it’s probably going to be about Martin and his progress. Oswald gestures towards the chair opposite and says, “by all means.”

Edward sits with the box in his lap, the one the bubble bath came in. Oswald blocks his brain from considering _that_ again.

“I’ve recently heard through my sources that Bruno Gallo is getting quite, ah, agitated about the interest you’re heaping on his loan.”

“Ignoring the fact that this has nothing to do with you, why do you mention this?”

“I think he might be gathering men for an attack, Oswald. His debt is insurmountable at this point. He’s getting desperate.” Edward leans an arm on his desk, and it almost looks imploring. 

“Gallo is easily dealt with. He’s a slippery character. I doubt he can muster much of a gang to attack me, there’s nothing to be gained from throwing in one’s lot with such a man.”

“But he’s gone to the _Narrows_ , Oswald. It’s the place where you are hated the most. He won’t have trouble assembling a mob there.”

“Your concern is touching, Edward, and forgive me for being crude, but you yourself want me dead, do you not? You could just let them come. Why bother to tell me about this?”

Edward closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Nothing good ever follows when he does that.

“I’m concerned for Martin,” he says quietly, laying both hands on the box. “He might try to use Martin as leverage to get you to lift the debt from his head.”

Oswald tries to maintain his calm and collected demeanour in the face of this horrific idea. 

“And how exactly are they going to get to Martin? I have more security on him than I do on myself.”

“I don’t _know_ Oswald. I’m just warning you to be vigilant and to not take any risks. You should be prepared.”

There’s a snappy retort on the tip of his tongue, but he bites it back. 

“I’ll take your concerns under consideration. Was there anything else?”

Edward gets up to leave. “No, that’s all.” He carries the box very carefully, cradling it under one arm as he opens the door. “Goodnight, Oswald.” And he’s out of the office before Oswald can reply. 

Oswald stares at the door for a moment, listening to Edward’s receding footsteps. When he’s sure Edward is gone, he shouts for Mr. Penn, and orders him to have Mr. Gallo found and killed immediately. 

After Mr. Penn leaves, he slowly makes his way up to the dining room. Now that the looming threat has been dealt with, he considers the rest of their conversation. Edward never confirmed that he wanted Oswald dead, and normally he wouldn’t miss an opportunity to remind Oswald of that fact. Perhaps Edward had really come to care for Martin, and his concern for him had overridden his lingering revenge vendetta. Maybe he’s luring both him and Martin into a false sense of security. Maybe the whole thing is a trap.

His instincts, however, don’t believe that. Edward has had countless opportunities to kill Oswald now, he’s in the room next door with no locks between them once a week. Maybe he’s coming around to the idea that Martin needs his father. Or maybe he’ll wait until Martin is grown and moved out before he comes to settle the score. Either way, he doesn’t think Edward is going to kill him, at least any time soon. 

It’s exhausting trying to understand him, trying to fathom him out, contemplating all of Edward’s possible motives. He wishes Edward would just let his anger and bitterness go, because it’s eating away at Oswald, just being on the receiving end of it. How bad must it be for Edward? It makes him wonder why he’s deliberately placing himself in Oswald’s vicinity every week. It’s not as though he can even gloat with his clever, spiteful comments, ever since Oswald made him agree to be civil. Perhaps it really is just a simple attachment to a boy with a thirst for knowledge similar to his own.

The important thing is that Edward seems to want to protect Martin, so they at least have that in common. Oswald can work with him on that, as difficult as Edward might make it at times. 

He eventually makes it upstairs, his leg giving him no small amount of grief. Martin is waiting at the dinner table, washed and smartly dressed as always. Oswald smiles and takes his seat opposite him. 

_Everything okay?_ Martin mouths. 

“Absolutely fine,” Oswald says. He hopes he sounds convincing.


End file.
